a better reality
by li'l fat necrosis
Summary: "She was surprised when the younger Asura stepped forward, hand bracing around her forearm, and Cassian shook a little at the touch. "I'm not who you think I am."" Co-written with Skydork. [Guild Wars: Cassian/Junebug]


She was barely able to stand it.

Her life had been a whirlwind of compliments to her intelligence, and she'd certainly proven them true. From the moment she'd pleased her Krewe with her first invention, people had called Cassian Dahlia a prodigy. But at some point, when everything was said and done, she'd found herself at a standstill- the end of the road, so to speak. Trahearne remained in Orr, no further need for his Commander, and Destiny's Edge had reunited on their own. Her work was entirely finished- and for an Asura, the thought was almost unbearable. For years, she'd been inventing, fighting and designing with her brilliance, but to what avail? Day-in, day-out monotony. She was trapped.

She could hardly believe it- her life, the one she'd put at risk so many times, no longer held much purpose at all. She remained in Lion's Arch for a time, but the children's whispers, the local's praises… it grated on her. Each compliment she received, each word of gratitude… it put a pressure on her chest, like bricks. Or, more so, the weight of Zhaitan's dead body.

Cassian Dahlia, a connoisseur of all things technological, blueprints and books, was no longer herself. As time passed, she'd even forgotten what it had meant- to be an Asura, a member of the College of Synergetics, a Magister of the Durmand Priory… she had strived for knowledge, and that knowledge was now rendered useless.

Her entire existence was rendered useless.

"That's Cassian Dahlia," they'd say. "She killed the dragon. She repaired Destiny's Edge. She saved Tyria."

Was it true, any of it? It seemed now as though her entire life had been a series of fumbles, bad jokes that had led to a meaningless dead end. She didn't see anywhere to go from here, could barely stand to leave her home most days. She'd stay inside, sleep, wouldn't eat. Occasionally she'd pour over some of the scrolls she'd taken from Sieran's stash at the Priory.

She'd never felt alone when Sieran was alive. She'd never had a best friend, not until she'd met that leaf-brained fool, who craved adventure so much she'd died for it. She'd never even gotten to see Cassian become Magister, let alone Commander.

Cassian often wondered if Sieran was still there, in spirit, watching her. She'd heard a legend from Sylvari folk, about spirits returning to the Pale Tree after their death. Mesmers seemed to be the root of it- no surprise. Cassian didn't really see the logic involved, but she'd like to hope… she'd like to hope that her best friend was somewhere out there.

Even now, as she stayed shut in, the windows covered over, she couldn't help the feeling of unease, that dreadful loneliness that would creep over her spine and corrupt her bones. In a way, she wished she'd never left Rata Sum. She wished she could've stayed with her parents, her krewe, the other less-renowned Asura who were never to make anything of themselves. As a child, she'd strived for fame- she had to grow up to realize it wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

Her hands clenched onto the table, sending some electricity up from the metal, bouncing around in the air as tiny sparks. Her powers had been growing uncontrollable with her lack of faith, her lack of desire, lack of vivaciousness. She could practically feel her mind feebling within the gloomy atmosphere, but she couldn't bring herself to care, as she took another sip of the bottle of sunken wine in front of her on the table.

She pressed her head to the metal frame, letting a loud sigh escape her lips. Exhaustion, really- she could barely bring herself to move at this point. She wasn't sure how long it had been since she'd had a peaceful night's rest. All she ever did was dream of dragonfire and corpses, of attacking despoilers and rotmouths spitting poison over a scorched landscape that had once been beautiful. She felt nothing, she saw death and she hated herself for it.

And then the knock came on her door.

Adjusting the bows in her hair buns, Junebug proceeded to knock on the door again. And again. And again. Until she came face first with Cassian- her hero.. Her heart stopped.

Metaphorically, of course. It was scientifically impossible for a heart to stop for a few moments and start up again just because she was looking at Cassian. There was always the chance for her heart to stop beating in a regular rhythm, but she was full of vigor and the chances of her having a cardiac arrest at her age was low. Or would she need to be thinking of tachycardia? Maybe there was a chance that the controversial excited delirium was actually real and she was having one now.

Doubtful. She wasn't having any paranoia, diaphoresis, and wasn't becoming incoherent. The third one would be awful to be around Cassian. She'd think she was a fool, an everyday idiot probably raised by a norn, never growing up in any academy or perusing the thoughts of joining a college. That was the opposite of what Junebug was like. Her parents didn't raise her to be an idiot, she was practically growing up in the academy (this one being almost true, she'd sleep outside the college.. the scoldings she'd received from the mentors and her parents were nothing compared to the happiness she felt when she went for her lessons. Her mother nearly wrapped a chain around her neck in an attempt to keep her inside at night. All she wanted to do was be the first one inside and the last person to leave..), and wanted to do nothing more than go to attend all three colleges.. she'd already graduated the college of statics. She just needed to go into the other two. Surely Cassian would help her..

Her hands trembled, and her mouth felt dry. "M-my name is Junebug Borelli," she flinches when she realizes she's stuttered. Perhaps she did have excited delirium syndrome? "And I plan on taking you back to the Asuran homeland."

..then again, what would Cassian want with her? She went over her flaws, dropping the biasness her teachers all said she "had". She never believed them on that.. she was the least biased person around. That's what she liked to think. She was so small compared to her peers.. compared to Cassian she looked like a newborn progeny.. but Cassian was small too. Not short like she was, but Cassian wasn't large compared to the majority of the people she knew back home. Maybe average height, maybe an inch smaller.

Wait. Was she comparing herself to her- that wasn't right... Junebug wasn't anything compared to her.

Not yet.

One day she'd be able to compare herself to her. But for today, and tomorrow, she'd have to remember that she was a nobody and Cassian's name was being written in their history books as they spoke.

Cassian wasn't usually one to point out the lacking coherency of a being, specifically an Asura, but Junebug's recent stutter was a discredit to her heritage. Asura didn't stutter, they didn't flinch- they didn't back down, or label others as heroes based on nothing but petty small talk. The gaze Junebug was directing at her was more than enough to grate on Cassian's nerves- but wasn't that the truth for anyone who looked at her these days? It seemed as though others were unable to hide their awe for her.

Cassian remembered days when she used to pride herself on the compliments her work garnered. Her metabolical research on weather paraphysics was something unrivaled back in Rata Sum to this day, and her standing with the Arcane council was something that couldn't be incapacitated. But it didn't seem to matter now- the Asuran government was flawed, their system a mess of cogs and sprockets that weren't locked into place… the world she had known was falling apart as she sat here, and surely, so was everything else.

It was common knowledge that the Krytan government was just as corrupt, that the Sylvari were still suffering in the wake of Scarlet Briar's legacy and Caithe's disappearance- but none of that was her business. She could care less if governments toppled- it was simply a judgment in the error of the other eaves. The council was intelligent enough to avoid such discrepancies, but that was only due to, in large part, the Inquest rise to power.

That being said, nothing discredited the problem at hand- the fact that there was, indeed, a tiny Asura girl, likely a progeny, (although she'd likely no doubt graduated at this point, if they were sending her out to Lion's Arch,) standing in front of her door. Cassian assumed the decent, generous thing to do would be to invite her guest inside, offer to brew her some tea, or let her sip from the wine bottle- no, she was too young for that. Cassian didn't even want to think of the outroar that would come from her giving a youngling alcohol.

She glanced up, meeting eyes with the girl, noting that they were balanced in proximity and height, though Cassian's form was much slimmer, build weaker than the aforementioned Junebug. She blinked, a couple times, calculating the infrequency between visits and just how long it had taken for the Asura to come crawling to her…

"I'd rather not," she said, sharply, her voice jutting sharp around the edges like a frequency tuning crystal. "And it has nothing to do with your presence, evident inadequacy, or even the abysmal ways of our own race…" she paused. "I don't have a home, and certainly not with the likes of those back in Rata Sum. So, if you don't mind," Cassian nodded to her a couple times, before pulling away, with a muted excuse.

She was surprised when the younger Asura stepped forward, hand bracing around her forearm, and Cassian shook a little at the touch. She wasn't used to company, and Junebug's hand was warm, warmer than hers, and clearly scarred from likely golemancing. She raised her eyes to meet Junebug's, and unsure of why she said it, she let a few whispered words slip from her thin lips.

"I'm not who you think I am."

Probably not the best choice of words to say to the older Asura, realizing that a more annoyed look grow on her face the longer she was out here with her. She inwardly berated herself- really, Junebug, "I'm not who you think I am?" So charming.. Cassian is probably thinking the best of her now.

"You have to come with me," she clicks her tongue. "Please."

She doesn't let go of her grip, tightening it even as she thought of what to to do next. Underneath Cassian's glare, she felt small and vulnerable. Which, for someone with Junebug's lack of fighting experience compared to Cassian's... status, wasn't something anyone would label as good.

Junebug had to remind herself that she was here to be trained as a progeny... getting her mentor upset was as stupid as one could get. Oh dear, what would everyone say if she had completely annoyed her- if she had forced her to leave her... her parents would be ashamed of her, her friends would laugh... her reputation would be ruined. All her hard work- gone. She'd never be able to live down the shame.

Cassian had to accept her. She had to.

Swallowing the ball that had been growing in size in her throat, she stared at the older Asura. She looked so cool.. her hair done in neat bun with a light blue ribbon tying them. Her hips hugged by a regal looking armour, she looked amazing and just like someone to aspire to be. Everything about her just oozed brilliance; it would spark anyone's envy. She didn't even look like she tried, she just looked sophisticated.

While she wouldn't admit it and had told everyone around her that they just liked the same style, Junebug had tried to copy her whenever her mentors could get her a picture of her. Their clothes were close, but not the same. Hers were much cheaper looking, dyed a royal purple and pink almost childishly for someone who claimed to be as grown up and mature, and hair rudely done in an unexperienced haste this morning.

Junebug regretted coping her so much, she suspected that Cassian was judging her for it. How many previous younglings had come to her door, dressed like her, and begging for her to come away with them? She'd probably gotten used to this, to the followers that her peers were.

The thought of other people doing this enraged her. Her poor hero deserved to be left alone to rest- the battle and journey she had endured must have been dreadful. Honestly, sometimes people were so obsessive.

Cassian didn't usually find herself so entranced by other beings in Tyria- Human, Charr, Asura, Sylvari… none of them really mattered to her except for in passing. Eir had told her she was 'wallowing in self pity'- Cassian preferred to think of it as just shutting out distractions. She had been trying to work, failing time and time again… members of her own guild had begun to shut her out, to avoid her…

In a way, she'd doomed herself to this. Really, her entire fate, her entire life- none of it had anything to do with anyone except for her. She still couldn't get over the loss of troops, good people that had fought with her over time, their dead bodies littering the scorched grounds of Orr.

She knew it wasn't anything to do with this girl- but Cassian's battle hardened mind had begun to see anything regarding her well-being, her location, as a serious threat. She shook Junebug's hand off her arm, giving a rather irritated glance to the younger Asura. Her eyes were bright, lit up like a golem, and Cassian couldn't explain why her chest suddenly shifted, as though it were preparing for palpitations. Perhaps it was simply the presence of another being?

She gives another glance to Junebug, and then motions stiffly with one hand. "Come in," she sighs, her voice seeping with disposition, but Junebug does as she asks, slipping through the doorway and into the house, standing gingerly by Cassian's side.

"My humble abode," Cassian chimes, "or lack thereof. Ignore the blueprints- I've been trying to restructure the magnetic polarizers of my guildmate's turrets- it hasn't been going so well." She pauses, wandering back over to the table, and sitting back down in the rickety chair with a glance to Junebug. "What can I do for you? I suppose you'd like some training? Perhaps in particle manipulation, Asura gates? Or something simpler, like recalibrating a personal power suit? Or maybe you've simply come to hear the tales of the brilliant Pact commander and how she single-handedly slayed the dragon Zhaitan." It's all enunciated with a sarcastic tone, but the younger seems unfazed, looking up to the bitter Asura with a tiny smile on her face.

"It's funny," Cassian said, with a dry chuckle. "One person can do many, many small things with their life that could save the future of millions- see Professor Gorr, for example. But then there's someone who spends their life uselessly and does a single, most extraordinary thing, killing thousands in the process- and they become a revered hero. It's trivial, really, in the scheme of things, and it makes life decidedly more difficult."

"You saved millions of Asuras with that extraordinary incident, and it wasn't just a trivial thing. Very few people alive now would be able to say that they managed to do such a feat. Even if you don't like it, you're a hero. You deserve all the attention. Don't devalue your achievements like that."

Or, that's what Junebug wanted to say. Considering how acidly Cassian spit that out, anything Junebug said would probably just cause her to become angry with her.

Cassian was right about one thing, her house certainly wasn't anything to gawk at. Nothing comforting that wasn't there that would separate her home from an empty shack about to be sold and only done to make the hopeful owners comfortable. Even then, it looked dull and rather dark. The only light source she was able to find was a few candles sitting on the window sills and on a small table in the middle of the room.

Was this what the great hero was living in now? Shouldn't she be living in some great palace filled with trophies and collections from her travels, maybe even unfinished inventions.. that's what Junebug imagined she'd have. Her home didn't look anything like that of some with her status.

"I-I can imagine h-how annoying that must be."

Was she apart of Cassian's problem? Did her hero only think of her as an annoyance, like one of the many little nats that seem to be begging to be close to her now. Had she moved all the way out here to not be bothered, only to continually be molested by Junebug and others..

She felt guilty for showing up at her home so suddenly now, but.. she had to. She was on her own mission. this was her first mission as Junebug Borrelli.

Cassian let out a long sigh, looking up at the young Asura, who was focusing keenly, eyes honed in on her. To be fair, the stare made her quite uncomfortable- she could tell why the girl was here, the promise in intellect she had, how great she probably thought she was… but it was all falling to pieces around her. Was it because she was Cassian Dahlia? Did that make her intimidating? She wasn't anyone to intimidate others, much less those in her own race. Hell, she may have been a savant, but it didn't give her the right to flounder the intellectual capacity of others.

So, she simply focused on Junebug, and said, "You're right. I apologize for my offputting misbehavior. It should never have happened."

She knew that she should apologize- and she was. For reasons unknown to her, she didn't want to leave it all at a standstill. The youngling had every reason to be upset with her, every reason to want to escape her presence… and yet she simply sat there, waiting. Cassian couldn't bring herself to feel any loathing for the younger. Junebug… it wasn't her fault.

"So, profession?" Cassian asked. "We can start with armor work, move onto weapon specialization after. What was your college? First invention? Major?"

She tries to pay interest to the girl, tries to keep her eyes from wandering, but her mind was ever so fuzzy; she wasn't sure how she'd be able to keep up when her own mind was already to its breaking point. Cassian looked up, focusing in on Junebug, but she barely noted the words passing the girl's lips- College of Statics, Interspacial Translocator… a few other things. Illegible to her… how was she supposed to take on an apprentice when she couldn't even take care of herself?

"Don't you have a krewe?" She asked Junebug, snapping herself from the haze just enough to pose a question.

"I-I'm," she felt like she was going to faint. Everything felt.. fast, ditzy, and she was not certain she'd be able to control herself any further. Her heart was pumping too fast, she couldn't help but wonder if she did have something wrong with her.

How did her past relatives die.. auntie died from having a invention blowing up in her face, her grandfather died from- well, they're not quite sure how he died. Or where he is, for that matter. He just seemed to wandered off somewhere a few years ago, leaving them terribly confused. She didn't have much to go on, most of her known family members were alive and well. Or died on accident.

"Thank you," she finally made out. Again, she cursed at herself. And then scolded herself for cursing. That didn't answer her question at all, she wasn't even close. "I-I.. I'm sorry, I-I mean.."

Her krewe weren't… well, that good. In terms of how trusting she was of them to actually complete a project, she was completely sure they'd be more kill themselves in excitement or one of them messing up a simple instruction. Was it smart to name them? After all, they hadn't worked together in some time.

"I-I have Lexus, a Magitechnician, and.. Illoure-" she hissed his name a bit. "our.. botanist."

She doesn't know what to do other than sigh, giving the other a muted glare, before swallowing. It wasn't as though it was simply the situation- or maybe it was, because all the talking, the company was starting to go to her head, leaving her with a godawful ache and a impuissant stance as she looked at Junebug.

"That will do," she says decisively, crossing arms over her chest before sitting in a chair and letting her eyes linger on Junebug. She doesn't say anything else, not for a long moment, taking the time to work on steadying her breath so the other doesn't think she's having… palpitations or convulsions or the like.

But it's something to focus on, she thinks, other than the rot and the stench and the goddamn Pact…

"Guess I have myself an apprentice," she says, ruefully, giving a dry laugh.

Maybe things from here on out will be different. Maybe, even if she isn't actually a hero, she can be one- for this youngling, this prospective mind. Maybe she can be her hero.


End file.
